Final Fantasy VIII: A Prelude
by RachelAshley
Summary: A Prelude to Final Fantasy VIII... Rated PG13 for blood and gore.


**_[[// Final Fantasy VIII: A Prelude \\]]_**   
  
  
--/ Prologue \--   
  
[[ Part I ]] 

  
  
Not a sound resonated throughout the cold, dark air of the still night, darkness looming in every corner, not a sliver of light to be seen spare the stars and pale moon, the cold blackness engulfing the city like a huge blanket which holes made visible the hanging moon and twinkling bluish white stars. The people of Galbia were sleeping in their soft warms beds of fluff, the deafening silence reigning supreme, broken only occasionally by the chirping of a lone cricket or a particularly loud snore coming from one of the occupants of the neat row of cozy houses lining the street. From somewhere down the road, in the general direction of the tall, magnificent church which stood proudly on the street, a soft hoot could be heard, followed by muffled shrieking. The shrieking of the owl's prey, its wings so silent they made no noise as they cut through the inky night air like a knife towards its prey; fast, silent and precise. 

Stealth did not elude her as she made her way down the street, her invisibility spell shimmering around her, shielding her from the sleep-ridden eyes of half-asleep guards on night-shift, a shocking contrast to her cool, emotionless sea of murky black eyes, completely devoid of fatigue or sleepiness. Her slender figure went unnoticed as she reached the high walls of the Ingrelae mansion. Her hard toed yet soft soled boots barely made a sound as she scaled the wall without effort and disappeared on the other side, as if her presence had never been. 

The grass ruffled slightly at the drop of the silent assassin, her boots making a soft thudding noise, but nothing stirred in the expanse of clipped grass that separated the huge mansion from the wall. Her dark clothes stirred slightly in the dead of the night, but her invisibility spell did little to stop her scent from drifting to the nose of a keen guard dog when a faint breeze stirred from somewhere. It raised its head slightly, wide brown eyes opening as it scanned the lawn before it. And saw nothing. It did not disregard it, though, and kept one eye open in sense of impending danger, its senses puzzling over the fact that there was a scent of a woman, yet not one in sight. 

_Danger!_ Its senses screamed, warning it one step too late. A powder like substance was thrown in its face, going into its sensitive nose and tongue. It was immediately on its fours, but it was too late as a sick sensation spread through its body. It could not bark for help and fell to its underside, dying. She watched this with eyes that missed nothing, and was just about to leave the scene for her mission when, an almost humane whine rang in her ears, pleading her to spare the dog the pain and end its life swift. She hesitated. Then, without a word, she swept out a shuriken from her hidden supply, and it was dead. 

  
  
  
  
[[ Part II ]] 

  
  
Her long legs took delicate step by step, not of the grace of a refined lady, but that of stealth, her boots silencing her footsteps instead of amplifying it, as the hard-soled shoes that of a lady would wear. She had been staking out this place the whole day, and had already figured out where her target slept. Her invisibility spell had long since ran out, and she did not have the time to re-conjure up another spell. She was, after all, a walker of shadows, and she had been trained to stalk to alertest of victims even under extreme pressure. She glanced at a grandfather clock that stood at the end of the hallway. 3:47AM. She had 23 minutes to the next shift change, when all the guards sneaking a nap would have to wake and change shifts, causing slight stir and may lead to the capture of her. She had not wanted to come in so late, but the dogs and guards had delayed her arrival, and had shortened the life of her spell. She too, had to make sure that the shift changing was an hourly matter, already using up 3 precious hours. She had went into the house at 3:30. 

Doing a fast, mental calculation, she figured she had about 5 minutes to finish her job, and that was not including hailing ass out of the mansion, over the wall and back to her hide-out. She arrived at the door, near the end of the hallway, but ignored it completely, working for the window at the facing wall. From beneath her half skirt, she pulled out a long whip of a strong kind of skin. Stepping out on the narrow parapet, being about 10 feet above ground, she swung out her whip and watched with satisfaction as it wound itself around a thin pipe near her designated window. Holding onto her snakeskin handle for balance, she made her way to the window and uncoiled her whip. Her hands moving quickly, she kept her whip back around her waist and climbed into the room, both feet landing at the same time. Her target was lying in bed with his wife. She merely regarded him coldly, like one of those rabbits she used to hunt for food and practice. Back when she was still living with… 

She shook herself out of her daze and made her way to the bed, drawing magic within her as she muttered a soft 'Infravision'. Almost immediately, the room turned a dull red, outlining everything and allowing her for easier movement. Careful not to trip or touch anything, she slid up to the bed and drew her kodachi* from its hidden location along her thigh. She had been taught to make use of her body to its fullest, and though at a glance she seemed defenseless, she had much up her sleeves. Without a second thought or hesitation, her kodachi wielding arm swept through the air and cut clean Ingrelae's throat, his scarlet blood gushing out in a strong spurt. 

_*Kodachi - A short Japanese sword._

His wife, awakened by the feeling of wet blood on her face, gasped in astonishment, staring at the shadow assassin in the eyes. 

"Oh…" she gasped hoarsely as she drew back from her husband's dead corpse and tumbled off the bed. "Oh… my god…" The assassin merely gazed at her with faintly concealed distaste. 

"I'm going to scream…" she said, still in a state of shock, from her place on the floor. "Oh… oh my god…" As if hit by an invisible blow, she suddenly snapped out of her daze and climbed to her feet, screaming. Without a word, the assassin whipped out a shuriken and it hit the woman squarely at the throat. The woman stopped screaming abruptly, her hands flying to her throat as a gurgling sound escaped her severed throat, blood streaming down her bloodied hands. Her eyes rolled back and she fell to the ground, barely alive. The assassin watched all this for half a second, then turned her back, jumped onto the parapet and was gone, the sound of a whip cracking as it unrolled itself into the dead of night. The assassin threw the whip blindly in the air and jumped, putting all her faith in that blind thrust. Her aim was true, and it coiled itself around the branch of a large tree beside the window. She was gone before the guards even arrived. 

The grandfather clock in the hallway moved its minute had to the number 52. 

- Fin -

Author's notes: This is just a draft. When I read over it again, I was obviously not satisfied with it. Please stay tuned for the completed final piece. 


End file.
